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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275899">Friends to Lovers And All The Dumb Ass Decisions In-between</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter'>CaptainJimothyCarter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Winterhawk Bingo [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Winter Soldier (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, Baker Bucky Barnes, Balcony Scene, Balcony Sex, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky ain't much better, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint is just emotional, Deaf Clint Barton, Depressed Clint Barton, Email Pals, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Foster Home Kid Clint Barton, Friends to Lovers, Getting each other flowers, Just panic attacks, M/M, No attempts are actively made, Over emotional Clint, Pen Pals, Read at Your Own Risk, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal intentions mentioned, Texting, Whiskey involved, WinterHawk Bingo, slight angst, winterhawk - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:29:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint absolutely hates his English teacher for making him write letters to some kid in Brooklyn thanks to this ridiculous pen pal program she's making them all do. Things aren't so bad when he learns about his pen pal and how he finds it easy to talk to him. </p><p>Things aren't going so great in Clint's life in between bouncing around in foster homes, finally being reunited with Barney after the system tore them apart, and heavy depressive episodes. </p><p>He finds comfort in Bucky and his quick wit and awkward flirts.</p><p>Done for the WH Bingo:<br/>Awkward Flirting<br/>Getting Each Other Flowers<br/>Balcony Sex</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barney Barton &amp; Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Winterhawk Bingo [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Winterhawk Bingo Round Two</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. You Gotta Friend In me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please note that this fic contains mentions of suicidal intentions. There is no graphic description, just mentions. If you cannot stomach that, then please do not read it and risk your own mental health. </p><p>Done for the Winterhawk Bingo: Awkward Flirting</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear James,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hate this thing they’re making us do, this ridiculous letter? C’mon, we’re not kids! Or at least, I don’t think you’re a kid? Holy shit, please don’t be a kid. The teacher didn’t tell me much about you. Just gave me your photo and said your name was James. Gotta say, man, you got some pretty eyes there. Hope my photo didn’t scare you so much. Barney took that thing when I was half asleep. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, about me I guess? Yeah, guess that’s the right thing to write. I go to school in Indiana, just a boring ass high school. Nothing special about it. Four walls and boring people. No friends. I forget the name half the time, just only know where it is. I only go cause Barney wants me to finish and get a degree. Right, what else? Uh, teach wants these five pages long at least. Five pages! In my shitty handwriting. Boy, I feel sorry for you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, names Clint Barton. I’m in my junior year of high school, don’t care too much about college. Don’t wanna go. \ Can’t focus and all they do is teach the same to me and I can’t sit and just read, wanna do with my hands. I got an elder brother, he’s like five years older than me and works various weird jobs. Don’t really knows what he does. I just wanna travel after I graduate from this shithole. Don’t care where. Just wanna go out. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh, I always want a dog? I’m good at archery. I know, weird hobby but I like it. Picked it up as a kid before my folks died and just continued it while bouncing around foster homes. Foster homes are shit, the system is shit. They separated Barney and me but Barney didn’t let that stop him in the long run. I hate the system. He won’t let shit separate us now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh, fuck. Did I mention how I hate this? I don’t know what the fuck to say. Keep staring at your photo. You’re really fucking attractive? Is that weird to say? Like you’re just...I dunno, man, but if a bear ever mauled you, I hope they stay away from your face. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, that’s all I got.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clint Barton</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clint,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s defiantly not five pages, but I get you. This shit sucks. For me? It’s some therapy doing, some anger management program I’m forced to be in. I ain’t even angry. I just hate bullies and idiots. They ganged up on my friend Steve and he’s small, y’know? Like 94 pounds and a fucking idiot. He keeps getting into fights with idiots who deserve it and I ain’t sitting aside while that happens. Well, I got caught in the fight and now gotta talk to some shitty school counselor about my feelings meanwhile the shitheads get to walk away like nothing happened because daddy cried to the school about their ‘poor, precious kids.’ Meanwhile, those kids are beating Stevie to a pulp because he told them to stop doing something or another.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hope they fall on their faces and break their noses.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, don’t call me James. James is shit. I told her to put Bucky on the damn note but nope. She refused to. ‘It’s not your real name, James.’ I hate the way she says James. Only person who gets to call me that is my ma and that’s cause she birthed me. I hate this counselor. She talks down to me so much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But yeah, your photo? Buddy, you gotta not sneeze. But I like it. Different. You got pretty eyes and soft hair. Sorry, but you are attractive and your attempt at flirting? Thanks??? I don’t think a bear is gonna maul me. I live in Brooklyn, actually. Indiana sounds like...a shit hole? No offense but what the fuck happens in Indiana?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, yeah that’s it. I’m Bucky. I got three sisters, but I’m the youngest baby. Last kid too. My dad fucked off when I was born, leaving ma to raise us on her own. She’s a tough cookie, takes no shit. I just go to high school, work at a bakery after school and on weekends. I mainly do errands or clean and bring home some cash or some baked goods. I wanna open up my own bakery one day. Do you think that’s weird? Not that I value your opinion, oh great stranger on weird paper. Just curious to see what you think.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Archery? That is a weird hobby but you’re from Indiana. I think you’re allowed weird hobbies if you’re from there. Sorry about the foster system its shit, huh? Steve, my friend here, he was in the system until my ma stepped in and yelled her way to the top and got him living with us as his ma intended. Bless that women, both of them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, did you flirt with me? You don’t even know me and you flirted with me? Oh, you fucking dork. Though, now that I am looking at your photo you are pretty cute. Has anyone told you that before? Your little nose is all red and wrinkled and in this bad photo, I can see your freckles. Gotta say, all your facial parts are in the right spot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, gotta go sweep the shop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky Barnes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can we talk about your shit nickname? How the fuck did you get that nickname? That’s so weird. Who the fuck looks at their kid and goes, ‘I wanna name them Bucky.’ You think James is ridiculous? Have the middle name Francis! You have no right to complain about the name Bucky when you choose to go by it. So weird.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think it’s weird. You wanting to own a bakery? It’s awesome that you work in one. I miss the bakery. We had a lil one a neighborhood from mine and it had the best guava paste-filled pastries. Like the best. Barney hated them, said the paste was gritty but I loved them. Used to save all my money up to buy them. Poor guy’s wife died and he closed the shop, said it reminded him too much of his partner. Poor guy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Speaking of the poor guy, poor Steve. I don’t know him and my heart hurts for him if he was in the system. I’ve been in it for a few years but even for just a few weeks like your friend? It’s fucking shit. I got kicked out of a home once for breathing wrong! Breathing! I think they hated me cause I refused to get out of bed. Well, excuse me for being depressed when you took away my own damn brother! And my hearing aids! They said it was the devil’s technology. Said something about ‘if God wanted me to hear, then he would’ve let me stay hearing.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid people, utterly ridiculous. And leave Indiana alone, Brooklyn Boy. You ain’t got nothing on Indiana when you’re from there. Bet you don’t even look across the street when you walk. You just do it. Do you even know how to use a cab? Get on the bus? All you know is pizza and walking everywhere.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your ma sounds like a tough cookie. Give her my best, will you? Anyway this bakery idea of yours. I think you should do like a cafe? Sell sandwiches because then I could work there and make you sandwiches because you’re the kinda guy I would make a sandwich for.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hell yeah, I flirted with you. Unless you want me to stop? And given you said a cheesy line back, I ain’t stopping. Sorry about your counselor and situation. It sounds like a shit-on-shit situation. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here’s more shit situation. This stupid penpal program is ending soon and I don’t know if I can get more stamps. Barney got me a new laptop for my birthday! Writing essays for school has been so much easier on this thing. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I made a new email and all. So shoot me an email, you dinosaur? </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <a href="mailto:clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com">
    <em>
      <span>clithawkeyebarton@gmail.com</span>
    </em>
  </a>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hell yeah, I flirted with you,</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Clint Barton</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clint</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You are a fucking mess and a half, do you know that? I think you do. I think you get off knowing that. Not that you get off. God this is weird.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And my name is James Buchanan Barnes. I had no control over my name. I had no control over my shit father who named me. Now I am stuck with this stupid name because I am not paying to get it changed. The nickname came from my sister Becca not being able to say Buchanan, so well, here we are.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The hell you shitting on Brooklyn for country boy? You go catch a deer with your bow? Bet all you do is fish and hunt and take shitty photos with your fish on some spear like a caveman. Sorry about your bakery though. We got something like that in the shop but it’s filled with cream cheese filling too. They’re pretty good. Maybe if you show your mug around here, I’ll make you some.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you’re nice that is. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, that fucking foster family sounds like shit, holy hell. What the fuck. I am sorry about your folks, ain’t ever easy, no matter the situation. But they took your hearing aids??? You needed that to hear! I mean do you know how to sign? I know a little but I can learn one day! It would be cool to sign with you! But still, that’s your property, and them taking it is so fucked up, and to think you wouldn’t be depressed? I’m glad you’re out of there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks for the bakery idea, thought it was pretty cool. I might look into it one day. And uh ??? you did flirt with me, again. Right there. Make a sandwich for? What is this 2012 all over again? I’m not trusting country-boy hands to make a delicate sandwich. You’ll probably tear the bread all up and ruin our day. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But sure, I’ll email you, dork. Thankfully I’m graduating out of this stupid counseling, having lied my way through.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <a href="mailto:buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com">
    <em>
      <span>buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com</span>
    </em>
  </a>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, hope your day is as nice as your butt!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky<br/><br/></span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span><br/>To: </span>
  <a href="mailto:buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com">
    <span>buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com</span>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </a>
  <span>From: </span>
  <a href="mailto:clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com">
    <span>clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com</span>
  </a>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: PenPal Happy Program Time</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sorry about the few weeks between your last letter and this email. Barney says I shouldn’t even be apologizing, but I feel like I have to say something. I know you probably weren’t worried because you didn’t email me, but I still feel like I gotta say something. Anyway, the last few weeks have been hard? I almost dropped out of school just because it reached a point and I couldn’t focus. My grades were dropping and I just had no will to live. I can’t tell you what the pinpoint cause was or if there was even one, it just sorta...I guess built up?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barney couldn’t even get me out of bed to eat some days. He had to admit me to the hospital after some...things happened. Anyway, I’m...better now? No, not really that feels like lying. I’m not better, not back to my 100% self but I feel like I can breathe just a little bit easier. It helps that Barney has argued with the landlord, our insurance, and several other people for weeks to surprise me with a service dog. Enclosed is a photo of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His name is Lucky. He’s missing one eye from a bad infection when he was a pup and his left ear is cropped from a dog fight by a misused owner, but I love him. Other people keep treating him like he’s broken but he doesn’t know what’s wrong or what’s missing from his life. To him he can still see, he can still hear, and he can still play, and be there with me. I can even take him into shops if I go out nowadays. I don’t, really, only when he needs to be walked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I, uh, didn’t drop out of school but I’m in summer school and I’ve talked it over with the principal and all, so I’m finishing up the year online and they arranged to if I do this project and volunteer somewhere and some shit I can graduate early. So, hey, not a complete failure here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, I have thought about your bakery, you know? Keep my mind occupied. Not fun having your stomach pumped, kinda thought about you lots while alone. Does that sound creepy? I asked Lucky and he sneezed, so I’m taking that as a no. I’ve been baking lots too to keep my mind and hands occupied when the bow doesn’t work. There are these great gingerbread cookies you could do, make ice cream. Homemade ice cream too? I think that would be a hit in the summer. And in the winter, it’s all about baked goods and holidays! Which reminds me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you could never be ice cream because you’re so hot...and a person. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still got it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway, Barney is saying I need to get off the laptop and come eat. We’re going for a walk to the park after this. He’s trying to get me out more. He’s worried but...I’m gonna try to get better for him. And for you too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint &amp; Lucky</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>To: </span>
  <a href="mailto:clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com">
    <span>clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com</span>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </a>
  <span>From: </span>
  <a href="mailto:buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com">
    <span>buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com</span>
  </a>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: Re: PenPal Happy Program Time</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint &amp; Lucky</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holy fucking shit you’re alive. I can’t say I am not crying or so relieved that I teared up when I saw your email on my phone. My hands are literally shaking right now, Barton. Jesus fucking Christ.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wanna know why I didn’t email you? Because you misspelled your email in your letter, doofus. It says </span>
  <em>
    <span>clit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not Clint. No wonder I wasn’t getting a response. I was so worried, you have no idea. I was debating on calling the schools in your town or I don’t know asking someone to take me there just because I didn’t hear back from you. And my ma knew I was worrying myself sick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone kept saying this penpal program doesn’t always end in friends but this is different. You’re sweet and adorable and an awkward flirt and an idiot but you’re my friend? I don’t care if it’s this distance between us. You’re mine. I am so relieved. Just let me calm down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint, hey...I’m glad you’re okay. I’m not going to press and ask questions but I’m here for you alright? I’ll even put your emails on a loud ringtone so I can get you in time. Who knows, we can even move to texts or phone calls so you can get me faster. Regardless, again, I am glad you’re okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can’t imagine what it’s like in those hospitals. My sister, Becca, I visited her there once when I was real little. Maybe six or seven? And I just remember it being so cold and empty and everything felt wrong. It felt wrong and off and I hated it. I hated seeing her in that bed because my mind couldn’t grasp what was wrong. Now I know and how she’s a lot better now. She had a service dog too when I was growing up. It was a German Shepard and loved to sleep on top of her. I think she named him Kobik or something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucky is adorable. I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Who dares to put him or you down, even if I gotta kick your ass too, okay? Lucky is so well, lucky to have you as an owner. I know you’re gonna take care of him and love him. He looks so happy, Clint. You look good too. Like not flirting, well much, but you look...there’s a smile in your eyes that I like. God, I’m a mess. I think I’m still recovering from you being alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I just wanted to say upfront that I visually enjoy you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there’s my shitty flirting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As for the bakery, that’s awesome? I mean awesome that you’re baking lots more. They’re letting me bake some too! I made an Apple Pie Cake for Steve’s birthday, just like how his ma used to make. We had a good cry over it. It’s been hard on Stevie, especially around his birthday. I don’t blame him. Gingerbread cookies sound amazing and I’m stealing that idea. Maybe you’ll have to come fight me for it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hey, recovery takes time, okay? Take it as someone who has...a few sessions of ‘anger management’ under his belt. Recovery isn’t linear and it’s okay if you gotta bounce back or if you’re okay isn’t the same as yesterday. I’m still here for you, Lucky and Barney are too. You’ll do awesome in school online, I bet it’ll be easier too. I’m kinda jealous you get to do it online. I still gotta get up at the crack of dawn and drag Stevie out of bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Speaking of, I should be going to bed. Maybe have a good cry now that you’re okay. Since you were so kind as to send me a photo of you and Lucky, here’s Steve and me. Yeah, he’s jacked up and shot up since we first started talking those few weeks ago. Kid hit a growth spurt. I hate how he’s taller than me now. It’s unfair. I hate being short. Just be safe volunteering, maybe you can volunteer in a bakery or an animal shelter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky &amp; Stevie</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>To: </span>
  <a href="mailto:buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com">
    <span>buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com</span>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </a>
  <span>From: </span>
  <a href="mailto:clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com">
    <span>clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com</span>
  </a>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: Re: PenPal Happy Program Time</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I honestly don’t know what to say beyond I am so, so sorry for making you worry and for stupidly spelling my email wrong. No wonder you couldn’t get ahold of me! And you were that worried? Your poor ma! You! I am so, so sorry, Bucky. I wish I could hug you just to make you feel better. Just to do something. It feels like it would help both of us. I mean hugs from my brother are nice and all but y’know hugging you feels...</span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m yours? Careful, I might like that. Sure you don’t got a fever, Buck? You aren’t delusional? I’m kidding. I do like being your friend, a lot. It’s weird, feeling so close to someone through pen and paper and now email because I would love to text you, call you, even see you if that’s okay? One day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a particularly fun hospital stay, but none of them are. The last time I had to stay in the hospital was when I lost my hearing because of my pops. Long story that we’re not getting into. The nurses and doctors were nice and I guess I was lucky that they were, there’s lots of history of some uncaring ones out there. They’re really amazing getting me back on my feet. It hurt you know to see the pain in Barney’s eyes? That worry. To know I caused it. It still hurts to think about it. Then, late at night, it’s not Barney… it’s you who's looking at me like that. Like I personally tore your heart out. I just…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I fucked up and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a fuck up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, Lucky likes the compliments. Careful or it will go to his head. Maybe I do need you to kick my ass. God knows Barney has been trying too, you know? In a gentle sort of way, he’s getting frustrated. I’m okay some days and then others I just can’t bother to get out of bed. It helps to have Lucky, to have to take him out. He gets me to eat and take my meds too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, sorry that I worried you so much. I feel so bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, poor Stevie. That Apple Pie Cake sounds....weird. Is that a Brooklyn thing? What the fuck is it? A cake in a pie? Anyway, I’m so sorry for Stevie. I hope things get better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, uh, speaking of volunteer, yeah. I talked to some places and a local animal shelter place is letting me volunteer. I started yesterday. Got an official shirt and all. They’re having me stay with the kittens for now. Or well, cats too. I guess they’re cats. We’re taking care of them, change their litter, play with them. I started to play with some dogs too today. It’s nice to have things that I have to do to get out of the house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holy shit, Stevie did spurt up. No longer that 94-pound kid, huh? Sorry, Buck but you’re still short? I’m 6’2. I guess it sucks being so short, but don’t worry we’ll pick you up so you can see on our level. Sorry, this one sorta short and useless? It’s a bad day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As for texting, uh, sure? Number is attached down below.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gonna try to sleep this off,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint &amp; Lucky</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>PS: You look sort of pale in your photo. I think you’re suffering from a lack of vitamin me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>To: </span>
  <a href="mailto:clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com">
    <span>clinthawkeyebarton@gmail.com</span>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </a>
  <span>From: </span>
  <a href="mailto:buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com">
    <span>buckywhitewolfbarnes@gmail.com</span>
  </a>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <span>Subject: Re: PenPal Happy Program Time</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint &amp; Lucky,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Don’t you apologize for a thing. It’s my own anxiety that got in the way and caused this. Guess I am just a mess and worry wort. Becca says it’s because I was the baby and everyone sheltered me. Ma didn’t believe in sheltering. Mama Sarah [Steve’s ma] certainly didn’t either, so I don’t know where she got that idea from. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But I am glad you’re okay. You’re so okay. Thank God. Can you tell I’m still relieved like a fucking idiot over here? I’ve been crying on and off from relief all day. Been working at the bakery full time now that it’s summer. Sweltering hot in there but I think I’m getting pretty good at making pastries. They’re moving me on to cakes. Even Steve had joined us and he’s doing the decoration. The kid has a natural artistic talent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Look, hey, don’t you dare apologize for a thing okay? I mean it. It sounds like you’re going through a lot and I want to be there to help even if I can’t physically be there yet. Maybe next year after we graduate, huh? Meet in the middle maybe Montanna or something. Hell if I know, I don’t study the map. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But hey, yeah I do mean it. You’re my friend. Besides Steve, my closest friend. We’re gonna meet one day, okay? And even if you got nothing to hold onto, hold onto that. Cause I can guarantee you that I will cry. Like a full-fledged idiot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucky and you make a great team, alright? Don’t doubt that. You two are adorable together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hey!! That’s something. The volunteer! How is it? I bet you’re doing great! You’ll be running the place in no time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ll text you okay? Give me a day or two. I uh, lost my phone? Look, I know that’s a shitty excuse but it ain’t. I’m on my sister’s laptop right now, replying to you. I just gotta find it. I hope I didn’t wash it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ll text you soon, okay? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>PS: Your flirting skills suck. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>PSS: I lost my number, can I have yours? <br/><br/></span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span><br/>[Photo attached: Bucky is standing shirtless in the middle of the ocean. Developing muscles are glistening with water. His hair is done into a high bun on top of his head, but he has that trademark annoying smirk on his lips.] I hope you know CPR because you take my breath away. - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That doesn’t work, Bucky I’m supposed to say that to you. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You are a complete dork. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And looks like you’re having so much fun. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I wanna go to the beach. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Maybe then you can talk me out of my shirt. - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Is that your way of saying I’m hot, Clint? - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Because I know I am. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But it got your attention, didn’t it? The flirting line. - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, your hot ass photo got my attention. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seriously you know I’m working now. I can’t think about your six-pack. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then don’t think about it and think about us going to the beach together where I’ll let you experience Coney Island. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Just you and me, baby. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Maybe you should send me a photo of you at work in return. - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Are you actively flirting with me? It’s hard to tell. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Uh, no I’m covered in hay. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And I don’t look so attractive as you do. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What are you saying? Of course, you’re attractive. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And yes, I am. I was flirting seriously this whole time. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I’m behind honest now. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>[...] I </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, Clint. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But I don’t know how to tell you because I didn’t know if you were uh into men or me in general and then I don’t want to put pressure on you or anything. - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Long delay] [Photo attached: Clint stands in the middle of a fenced-in yard wearing a muddy baby blue shirt. Lucky is by his side despite his leash and harness is off, dogs are shown playing in the background. A piece of hay is sticking out from his hair and he’s pouting.] There. I look ridiculous. Glad you’re having fun. You start school next week? - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Um, no, you don’t. - JB</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baby, all your facial parts are in the right spots. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Except for your lips. They’re not on mine. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And yep, senior year, baby. Just got a handful of classes and I’ll be graduating early too! - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>How are your classes going? - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Officially done with Junior Year. Been on a little week break. Barney and I are going to go to Holiday Park. It’s a theme park but after the holidays like Christmas and July 4th. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Then back to school and volunteer. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But they said if I continue at this rate, I’ll graduate by December. Or January, depending. - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s great, Clint!! You deserve this vaycay. Maybe get a feel for roller coasters. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Maybe convenience Barney to come to Brooklyn instead? ;) - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I’m teasing, don’t. You sound like you got your heart set on this weird theme park. - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not weird. It’s fun. I went when I was younger with a foster family. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pish. I wish. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>been talking about moving when I’m graduated, so maybe…? - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Brb, working on feeding Horse. - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Later that evening.] Hey, I know it’s late but can we talk? - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, what’s up? - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You okay? - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Horse didn’t make you two inches shorter, did he? - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, Horse didn’t shorten me, shortstop. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>No, I wanted to talk about what you said earlier and why I didn’t comment… - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And I don’t know how to say it and don’t know what exactly it is I wanna say but I can’t stop thinking about it. - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[...] Okay, first of all, go get a drink of water and calm down. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Second, just say it all. Bluntly. I’ll figure it out. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You know I’m good at puzzles. - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m not a puzzle. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But okay. - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay. Good. Relax. It’s okay, nothing you say can scare me, alright? - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I like you. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Like, like you. And God that’s so stupid to say. You don’t know me! I mean I don’t know you! I mean we do, sorta know each other. We do but we don’t? And you don’t...you’re there and I’m here… but flirting with you even teasingly and just talking to you and just...being your friend and these conversations have been the best parts of my weeks. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And I don’t know what I wanna say but I like you. Like really, really like you. Like if I was there, I would ask you on a date. I would do anything to make you smile. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And I feel so guilty that I do and I don’t know why! - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint, I like you too. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I’m just shit at telling people my feelings good or bad and you already had so much on your plate, I didn’t wanna stress you out, but it looks like I did anyway. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>As for the guilt? Buddy, it’s okay. There’s nothing to feel guilty over. You like me. That’s okay. I like you too. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Are you saying what? You feel guilty for liking me, someone of the same sex? That’s...normal I think for uh us, or well I get it at times too. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>But bottom line is, why can’t you ask me out now? There are long-distance relationships. Sure, some people don’t like them and there’s this whole negative side against them but we’re...different. I like to think we are. - JB<br/></span>
  <span>And people are gonna say we’re just teenagers, don’t know what we’re doing and scoff it off. But I like to think we’re different. Maybe our situations matured us, but we...can make it work? - JB<br/></span>
  <span>So what do you say? -  JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint? - JB</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Buddy? - JB</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Are you okay? Did you pass out? - JB</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did you hear angels? - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why the fuck would I hear angels? - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Because we’re a match made in heaven. ;) - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Har. Har. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And no, sorry, I uh…might’ve...overstimulated and fainted? - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Do not tell Barney. - CB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure, I won’t tell your older brother who’s in charge of you that I have no way of getting ahold of. - JB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You okay? - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pun helped. I think I might go make me some tea to calm down. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Because you’re a hot tea of a body. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Get it? - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>So, is that a yes? - JB</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s a yes. - CB</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Snap Dragons & Roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Set a year later, Clint has officially graduated high school early and is working his ass off to surprise Bucky with a visit. Barney is not too happy about letting his baby brother go to New York to visit a near-stranger, but what can you do when he's in love?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For Winterhawk Bingo: Getting each other flowers</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, beautiful. - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I know it’s pretty late, but I just wanted you to know that I love you. - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sleep well, okay? I’m just getting home, I’m gonna shower and crash. - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been an insane year if you asked Clint. He was ridiculously lucky to have met Bucky over that ridiculously stupid pen pal program. Yes, it was still ridiculous even if he did meet a guy he did like. Then there was the crash with his serious depression and Barney working for him to get Lucky and the school working with him so he as of this month, graduated early. And now? Now he was working at the very place he was volunteering at, helping run organization events, and help animals get adopted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like he said, it was an insane year.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Bucky, through it all had been by his side. They’ve talked nearly every day, over the phone or video, or just a few texts back and forth. Far as he knew, Bucky had just been as crazy between working at the bakery, moving onto what seemed like an unofficial management position, and school. Now they both were out of school and working full time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Life was just insane for Clint and through it all, he did miss Bucky. He felt like he couldn’t be whole without the man by his side. It felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>odd </span>
  </em>
  <span>to miss someone you didn’t truly know, but he did know Bucky. He felt like he knew a side of him more than most people did. That being said, he wasn’t sure if he could just say I love you back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Bucky, god this saint was just so sweet about it too. He didn’t force Clint to say it back, he understood the man’s hesitation, especially when Clint stumbled over himself to try to let the man know he did have feelings for him but that was a huge commitment and he wasn’t sure if he could do it. Bucky was just a goddamn saint to him and fuck, he didn’t deserve it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, these texts, despite he was half asleep did make him smile, even if he started to reply before falling asleep again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Working almost 60 hours a week these past three weeks put a drain on your body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was worth it though taking these double shifts and going through the wringer, all to save up for a well-deserved surprise visit for Bucky. He’d been talking to Steve behind the guy’s back [it kinda made him even feel guilty for doing so] about surprising Bucky with a visit and what days would work best and if Steve could help him get a few days off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Next week would be perfect. - SR</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The text came at 8 in the morning, when Clint was finishing up the task of cleaning out the dog cages and starting to put their beddings back in. He smiled at the unexplained text, feeling a surge of excitement and energy blossom in him. Lucky could sense it in his owner too, given how he was nudging him and trying to get Clint to calm down by pressing his cold nose into his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay, boy, I’m okay,” Clint whispered, kneeling so he could run his fingers over Lucky’s head. “Just really good news, okay? Bucky is gonna be so surprised!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Screw people who didn’t think dogs had emotions because he swore Lucky’s smiled at him, even as he was knocked to the concrete floor and laid on. The phone was knocked from his hands, preventing him from replying and Clint couldn’t be too mad at his pup for doing his job. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Clint had texted back, Steve had already sent another one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The bakery is closing for a week due to some family business. Nothing bad! - SR</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky is gonna be off for that week, so I think you should come down then. - SR</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That sounds perfect. Let me clear it with my boss and book my tickets, alright? - CB</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t let him know, alright? - CB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t exactly lie worth a thing, just to warn you, so no promises. - SR</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>He’s gonna be so happy. - SR</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was easy to clear things with his boss, explaining that his long-distance boyfriend needed him. His boss, a friendly guy with soft eyes named Coulson seemed to understand young love to some degree because he gave Clint the next two weeks off with pay and told him to go home early so he could book his ticket and pack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barney, on the other hand, he didn’t seem so happy about his baby brother flying halfway across the country to visit some guy he barely knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you know the guy is even real? He could be...what’s that word...catfishing you.” The auburn-haired man pointed his spoon at Clint’s chest, sauce splattering all over the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Barney, seriously? You’ve talked to Bucky! You’ve seen him on video. I’ve talked to his ma, to his sister, to his best friend. And I know you’ve done background checks! What more do you think he’s hiding?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t nothing he’s hiding beyond that lil’ record of his. I just don’t like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t like </span>
  <em>
    <span>it </span>
  </em>
  <span>or you don’t like the idea of me going across the country without you to hold my hand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, that ain’t it.” He waved his hand before leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He was still staring at Clint before he just huffed and slammed his chair back on all four legs. “Maybe it’s a little bit it. I just don’t wanna see you hurt and abandoned in New York. I wish you’d let me drive ya.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint sighed, his eyes softening as he cleaned up the table and deposited their bowls into the sink. “Barney it’s a twelve-hour drive. Plus, I already booked my ticket and I ain’t getting that money back. I know you’re worried and I appreciate it, but c’mon...at least be happy for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elder Barton just huffed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I am happy for you, but I’m also worried, someone has to be. What if you have another depression episode? What if you get hurt? What if something happens to Lucky? You ain’t ever been outside of the state before. Look, I know you like this guy alright? I know you got some strong feelings and you’re all in love and what naught but I just want you to be careful, okay? There are some people out there who will wanna hurt ya.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Clint’s turn to narrow his eyes, raising his eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>that? Of all people?” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Bucky isn’t gonna hurt me, okay? I’ll be careful in New York. I can handle myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You better,” Barney grumbled, clapping his brother on the shoulder and squeezing hard. “Or I’m gonna tear ‘em apart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still stood behind him while he washed the dishes, Clint often looking over his shoulder to see Barney was still there before the man just sighed. “I’m proud of you though, okay?” he finally huffed, avoiding looking up at him. “You just...went through a lot. You pulled yourself back up and you got through school, even graduated early. You’re working full time in a job you love and you got a guy that seems to care about you. I just don’t want you to…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” the blonde sighed, turning to look at his brother. “I know. I’ll be careful, okay? Flight doesn’t leave until Sunday anyway, we got plenty of time to bond and for you to be an emotional sap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re the sap, sap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clinnnnnnt. - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Clint, tell me what’s wrong with Steve? - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Why is he avoiding me? - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How should I know? I don’t talk to him. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Why aren’t you at work? - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>The bakery closed down today, remember? - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Steve’s been funny all week, barely talking to me, looking at me. - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Like he’s hidin’ something. - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, right. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I dunno, man. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, I’ll be unable to text for a few, okay? I got a client coming in, big german sheppard to wash. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck, it felt wrong to lie to Bucky but if Steve was terrible at avoiding telling Bucky the truth, then so was he.  His flight was leaving in just a few minutes. Barney had long left the airport after a long, awkward hug, and now Clint stood alone with just his carry-on and Lucky tied to his waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite how it was just 4 am, Clint couldn’t sleep. He was practically bouncing even without an ounce of caffeine in his system. Not even Lucky could calm him down and he doubted anyone would be able to until he was officially in New York. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alright. Even if it’s too early for a dog grooming but alright. - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You do you. Gonna nap. - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aww, fuck, Bucky was mad at him. This didn’t sit right with him and he almost, almost text Bucky everything right then and there. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the best at lying and Bucky had called him out on the fact it was still too early in the morning for him to be working with the groomers, but he wasn’t just lying to be cruel, right? It was just a white lie. That was okay, right? Thankfully his flight was being called to board and Clint could finally just distract himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, you’re still mad. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>That’s fine. I kinda shouldn’t have lied to you but I promise it’s for a good reason, okay? - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I hate when you’re mad at me. Doesn’t feel right. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway...just text me back? - CB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck. Still nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Steve, how mad is Bucky? - CB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not mad. He’s uh...sobbing? - SR</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Steve. Why is he crying? - CB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I...might’ve told him? - SR</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t be too mad, Steve was honest and Clint himself was two seconds away from spilling the beans, plus, maybe it was a good idea that Steve did tell him. He was experiencing a layover in God knows where for another hour. At this point, he wouldn’t make it into JFK until 8:30-something in the morning. It just felt like lost time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re the biggest jerk I know, do you know that? - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>How could you hide this from me! You suck at hiding stuff. - JB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You could’ve given me some warning, now I’m having to rush a shower before I can go and pick you up. - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you. Christ, you’re the best. - JB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The text in rapid session just made Clint smile, resting his head on top of a very tired Lucky’s. “We’re almost home, boy,” he promised, scratching him behind the ear. Lucky had truly been his life savior. The pup got him through the anxiety flight and now even on this layover was still comforting his owner. “He’s gonna be waiting for us, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t fall in the shower. - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I got a hotel, okay? - CB</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I know you still live with your ma and all, but hotels are fun - CB</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, who cared? They were both legally adults and Clint would just feel awkward when and if this came to something sexual and Bucky’s ma or sister was home. Just the idea made him shudder. He smiled down at Lucky as their flight was finally called for the last leg home, the nervous energy budding in his throat. Lucky nudged at him and licked at the inside of his wrist, reminding Clint to stay calm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re almost home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should I get flowers?” Clint purred, looking down at the golden lab leaning into him. Lucky’s tongue rolled out and threw his head back onto Clint’s hip, the blonde grinning from ear to ear as he looked over the minimum choices.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were a few left, a bunch of half-bent roses, dead-looking lilies, so he just went with the only </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive </span>
  </em>
  <span>looking thing of small flowers stranded together on a single stem called Snap Dragons. The cashier didn’t look so amused or as awake as Clint was and couldn’t give two shits when he started to bounce on his heels from excitement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How could he not be?! He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was actually here! He was here and Bucky was waiting for him! He couldn’t even call the man to tell him he was here and just hoped he got the right gate. He had enough battery to text Barney that he made it, he was meeting Bucky, and his phone was dying before it died.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Clint breathed to the cashier, almost snatching the flowers back out of excitement. “I’m gonna meet my boyfriend. First time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” the man grunted, seeming unamused as he handed Clint back his change. “Have fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not even this man could dampen his spirits. He nearly ran through the large crowds of people, Lucky sticking close to his side to keep his owner in line and from losing himself in the chaos. He had to go get his luggage, but that could wait.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting through the crowd, Clint clung to the flowers in his hand, the other was wrapped around Lucky’s lead despite how he was attached to his waist. He was just too nervous and the dog could feel it. He stood on top of some escalator, looking down at the crowds of people moving about, others holding signs. It was far too crowded to just look for Bucky and he wished his phone was charged so he could call the man. It was almost overwhelming the number of people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And despite it, despite the excitement, there was that terrifying thought in the back of his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What if Bucky wasn’t here? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What if he was stood up? What if he waited and spent all this money and the guy did stand him up? What if Barney was right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thoughts made his throat tighten up, his hand clenching around the flowers, threatening to break the stem. His eyes scanned the crowd again, the second look no better than the first. If anything, there seemed to be just as many people. His eyes were wide, dashing from spot to spot to spot. Looking for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything, any sign. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A tall, muscular blonde or a guy with short-cropped hair, that trademark smile, and a shit-eating grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, he found what seemed to be even more people crowding together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucky, sensing his owner’s anxiety whined and nudged Clint. He tugged on the leash to get the man over to an isolated corner, Clint not even aware he was starting to panic. His hands shook and there was a tightness in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His throat felt tight with the strain not to cry as Lucky sat in his lap and nuzzled into his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His arms wrapped around his pup, dropping the flowers as he pressed his face into the dog’s furry neck, sniffing. “He’s not here,” he whispered, the words causing his bottom lip to tremble. “He’s not here, Luck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Clint! Steve, do you see him? No, fuck. He’s - hang on - Clint!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint’s head snapped up when he felt a presence beside him, finding himself staring at a blurred figure. Tears ran down his face, blinking until his vision cleared. Above him was a brunette with soft, lanky hair that had fallen across his boyish face. Full lips that broke out into a smile and watery stormy-gray eyes. A storm was in those eyes, green and blues swirling amongst the dark gray as tears streamed down his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even think, he just grabbed the guy’s face and kissed him harshly before a sob broke through his lips. He might be taller than Bucky, but it didn’t stop him from pressing his face against the man’s chest, holding tightly to the cold shirt. He must’ve been outside recently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh, shh, darling,” Bucky whispered, stroking his hair out of his face. “Shh. You’re okay. It’s okay. Did you get lost?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No-no I-I…” Clint hiccuped, pulling back to look at Bucky’s face. “I couldn’t find you and I-I panicked...I even...even…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave a wounded noise as he picked up the flowers, a few broken off their stem, and now on the floor. His bottom lip trembled again before Bucky’s hand cupped his face and he was pulled into a tender, loving kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re beautiful, Clint. You’re beautiful, it’s okay, baby. You’re-fuck...we’re just emotional right now. It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without saying a thing, he sat on the floor beside Clint and pulled the blonde into his lap. If someone had something to say, they didn’t bother with it. Lucky walked around them so the leash was wrapped around them, laying in front like he was their guard dog. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky grinned as he gently scratched Lucky’s head. “Thanks for keeping him safe, Lucky. This is all overwhelming, huh? This crowd. I-I should’ve met you at the gate and not luggage. Steve’s goin’ to get your luggage and get the car ready. Come here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed Clint again, tenderly holding his face in the softest hands a baker could posses. Their foreheads pressed together, Clint sniffling, feeling ridiculous. Bucky wasn’t even judging him for having an episode, for panicking. In fact, he was crying too. Just he looked better at crying. It’s then that Clint noticed the paper-wrapped bundle beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing him looking at it, Bucky’s face flushed as he picked it up and laid it in Clint’s lap, brushing the last of the tears from his face. “I got you flowers too. I-I was gonna do a cheesy sign, but flowers seemed better. They’re...a bit much...I think the shop keeper just got excited.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling the paper back, Clint saw what Bucky meant. There had to be over twenty deep red roses here, thorn carefully picked off and laid in a beautiful display against his lap. It made him cry all over again, more out of just the pure joy of being with Bucky than being upset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he said simply, Bucky’s eyes widening at the admission. “I-I love you. I mean it. I...I love you, Bucky. I just...I...I…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he whispered, rubbing their noses together. “I love you too, Clint. And you too Lucky.” He laughed when the dog nudged at his hand with his snout. “You two look exhausted, let’s get you home and resting, hm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Clint protested despite being put on his feet and Bucky shrugging off the thick jacket he was wearing to wrap about him, the brunette just smirked. “It’s okay, baby. You’re home. We have all the time in the world.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Beautiful Symphony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's a hotel + whiskey + a balcony. You do the math.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WH Bingo: Balcony Sex</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>"Oh fuck, right there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words hissed out of Clint’s mouth before he could think about stopping them, not wanting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>somehow </span>
  </em>
  <span>be overheard. He needed to tell Bucky how good his fingers felt scissoring his rim open or how he was rubbing at that </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>spot making him see stars either. Bucky deserved to know how good he was doing, even if Clint’s small sounds weren’t telling him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There we go, baby,” Bucky purred, pressing another scratchy, warm kiss to the back of the man’s bare thighs. “Open those legs up for me, will you? </span>
  <em>
    <span>There we </span>
  </em>
  <span>go, c’mon, like we practice, bend over the railing.” He could hear Clint squeaking as he did so, not because his shoulders hung over the railing, but at the fact, this position left him vulnerable and exposed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baby, no one is gonna see you this high up. They might hear you but really what’s some moaning from above, hm? It’s normal in Brooklyn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is what he got - coming to this hotel room, getting a room on the thirteenth story. They had rested long enough for Clint to recover from his jet lag, gone out to do a little touring and get something to eat before coming back to the hotel with a bottle of whiskey, and well...it all leads to this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>being the fact that Bucky had somehow convinced him to lean onto the balcony and let the man fuck him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So much for romantic first-time gestures, this was going straight into the kinky part and it was all aided by the whiskey at their sides. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thoughts melted from Clint’s mind when another finger was added to the two inside of him. He tensed and hissed as his rim was stretched, the burning sensation edging with pleasure. Bucky stilled them for a moment, letting him breathe it out and adjust. Somehow Bucky knew just how to read him, how to sense when Clint was struggling to take an extra finger or when the rubbing of his prostate or the biting became too much. Even while a bit drunk, he was far too sweet on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” The fingers slowly moved, his ring finger pressing a little deeper and stretching his velvet walls. “Remember the safe word -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chocolate, I got it,” Clint groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He leaned his forehead onto the railing, not caring about the tension this put on his shoulders. He felt both hot and cold all over, the wind blowing on them chilled his body while Bucky’s fingers were making him burn up. He was going to cum and it was going straight over that edge. “I-I’m fine. Stop worrying about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baby, I am always gonna worry about you. Now…” Oh, there was that purr in his tone again. It didn’t help when he leaned into his bubbled ass, pressing a few more kisses to his skin. “Just relax for me, alright? Gonna make you nice and sloppy for my cock. You want some more juice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint’s eyes fell to the whiskey sitting by the chair, half gone with the cap lost long ago in their room. “No. Wanna remember you fucking me over the railing, but you go ahead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t gonna need it, buddy. I’m drunk on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing at Clint’s scoff and roll of his eyes, Bucky used his free hand to dribble a few more drops of their recently-bought lube onto his fingers. Clint hissed at the feel of the cold lube, the hiss dying into a moan as the man rubbed it into his sore rim. His pinkie was slowly tucked underneath, easily slipping inside his broken rim with no problems. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt so good to be this full. This throbbing, beautifully full. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to be full of Bucky for the rest of his life. Bucky seemed to think the same thing too because the next thing Clint knew, his fingers were popping free of his ass. The sudden loss of warmth and fullness and the stars dancing in his vision made the blonde whine. His knees buckled and he was only standing by the railing under his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing the whiskey slosh around, he watched the brunette take another drink before his lips were claimed in the awkward position of his head craning over his neck. He moaned at the taste of the whiskey on his boyfriend’s lip, the rough hand pulling at his blonde hair. Fingers found his nipples, pinching them and pulling on them in a manner that made Clint want to sink to his knees against the balcony. There was a pleasant warmth building in his gut that would mean the end of this little game very soon if Bucky wasn’t careful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seems he even knew that Clint’s breathing coming in small hitches because the hands pulled away, finding purchase on his hips. They gripped him in a near bruising grip, grinding their hips together. Bucky’s cock was hard as a rock between his cheeks and he knew how that monster had to ache. It was already a shade of purple from neglect, the man too focused on Clint’s pleasure and stretching to bother with his own pleasure. Once or twice he might’ve squeezed himself to stave off an orgasm. He wanted his first one to be inside of the man he loved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here,” he breathed, lips sloppily kissing along the blonde’s shoulder. “Put your leg up on the railing, it’ll give me more room. Lean back into me, alright? I gotcha, ain’t gonna let you fall. Hold onto the railing though, I don’t want you touching that cock. I wanna watch you cum over the side and moan to the people below how good you feel, alright? Can you do that, sweetheart?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck, if Bucky continued to call him sweetheart, he would do anything the man wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To prove the point that he could, Clint slowly brought his right leg up and placed it on the top railing, adjusting his left leg out a little bit more to expose himself. He felt Bucky’s hands tighten to a bruising point, hearing him curse in Russian under his breath. Bucky leaned him back, sticking his cock right between those bubbled cheeks again to give himself some relief from this throbbing sensation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look so damn good, doll,” he groaned in Clint’s ear. “All spread out for me, who knew you were so flexible. You ready? Cause </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m ready to just fuck you right up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was little hesitation when he nodded, swallowing hard as he spread his leg a little bit more, exposing his stretching ring of muscle that </span>
  <em>
    <span>begged </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be filled at this point. “Go ahead, Buck. I-I’m ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nervousness was there, but Bucky’s kisses along his neck and trailing to his lips were just as sweet. He pulled Clint to look at him, letting go to hold his face with one hand, the other squeezing his cock. He drunk down the blonde’s moans as he eased himself inside, his head breaching the tight hole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both stood there for one whole second, Clint moaning like a banshee, the stretching and aching were to a new point. A painful point, but a pleasurable point. And he was just barely inside of him. He barely was able to nod at Bucky to continue, holding onto the railing for life as he eased himself in a few more inches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man bottomed out in one solid, wet thrust, Clint’s moan echoing around the city, to be lost to the noises below. Not that he cared at this point if anyone did hear him, maybe he even wanted to be heard. To tell them how fucking hung his boyfriend was, how he was buried deep inside of his ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hurt, no doubt about that. There was a searing burning pain from being opened, from the cock throbbing inside of him and filling all the right points, but it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>pain. It practically made him melt into Bucky, glad the man had abandoned the bottle of whiskey to hold him close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” he whispered, pecking sweet, warm kisses along his neck again. “Cause you’re so fucking tight, darling. I ain’t lasting long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“G-go on,” Clint groaned, squeezing his eyes shut when the man pulled out a few inches, just to thrust back inside. Oh, that felt good. So good, too good. Nothing should feel this good in life. It was dangerously addicting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The purring and gentle kiss, with too much stubble, was all he needed in response from Bucky. That and the fact the man was squeezing his hips again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned back to look down at his cock, pulling back, to the point he could feel the tip of his head just keeping that rim open. He bottomed out in one solid, heavy thrust, listening to Clint’s screaming moan. It was a beautiful feeling, the tightness of Clint’s ass around his cock. The velvet walls squeezing him beautifully with every hitch of his breath. It was almost cruel to attack his prostate with every thrust, but the sounds escaping Clint’s swollen lips made it worthwhile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s it, that’s it,” Bucky groaned, speeding his thrusts up. Every thrust of his hips caused Clint’s to bounce against his, his ass jiggling. He could see his cock twitching and bouncing, pre-cum practically drooling from his uncut head and onto the edge of the balcony. He was holding on for life, leaning back over the balcony while the brunette grounded into him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each thrust from Bucky was making him see stars behind his eyelids, dragging sounds he didn’t know he could make from his lips. He felt them leave his lips, but they were lost to his roaring ears. His cock ached and each brush of the wind felt like someone’s cold tongue on the underside of his cock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each breath from his lungs just meant he was closer to his orgasm, the fire burning in his belly. He wanted to touch himself, to hold it off, to stave off the orgasm, but he knew soon as he touched it, he was gonna burst. Instead, Clint clung to the railing. He could hear Bucky thrusting into him, the wet sounds his ass made, the sounds of skin-hitting-skin, the groans and rumbles in the man’s chest that were just for him. It was all a beautiful sound of a symphony that he never wanted to end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His balls were starting to tighten and he felt his right thigh clenching, a tall-tell sign he was close. Bucky must’ve known because suddenly he was being pressed against the railing, his hand around his cock. “I want you to cum for me,” he growled, nipping at the man’s earlobe. “Can you do that, baby? Cum for me? I’ll fill you up real good if you do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a combination of things that brought Clint to his explosive end. The fact Bucky was rabbit fucking him, cock just barely pulling out of his ass a few inches before diving back in at a fast pace. The feel of the warm hand around his cock, squeezing and pulling in all the right places. The man’s words, his growling. His free hand tipped his head back, Bucky’s teeth sinking into that </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>place along his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint wasn’t sure if he even screamed. He was sure he did, his mouth was open, his chest ached, his throat was throbbing but he never heard it. His ears were roaring and he saw black dots in his vision. The fire burning in his gut, the tugging of his balls all released at once, squeezing around the cock in his ass like he was a snake, choking his victim out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was sure, for a period of time he must’ve passed out, because when he came to, Bucky was holding him. They were laying on the floor of the balcony, his legs still propped open. Bucky’s cock was still inside of him, but a considerate softer now. He could feel a wetness between his thighs that combatted with the warmth in his chest and against his backside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky chuckled, shaking his frame with his laughter. “You okay, love?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t even been aware he was silently crying, a few tears running down his face. His first conscious breath shook his frame in the manner that you did when you cried for so long. Bucky’s hand was back on his chest, rubbing softly and kissing whatever spots he could reach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m fine,” he hiccuped, rubbing bitterly at his face. “That was...amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough to make you cry?” Bucky teased, slowly sitting them up. He cursed as he got Clint to kneel and then stand, his cock popping from the man’s ass with a wet </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was beautiful to watch the mess he painted on the man’s walls to dribble out of his ass and how embarrassed Clint looked to have it all pouring out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” he grumbled, nose still dripping and face flushed. “Yes. Enough to make me a crying mess. The people of New York now know your boyfriend is a crier during sex.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The people of New York will know a hell of a lot more if you let me fuck you over the balcony like that again,” Bucky sighed in content, leaning back, his arms tucked behind his head to watch the view of Clint’s pretty ass before him. “You wanna go for round two?”</span>
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